sober up (you make me feel young)

can i finally feel something again

Goodbye, goodbye

I said to my bestest buds

We said that we'd keep in touch

And we did our best

(My favorite color is you

You're vibrating out my frequency

My favorite color is you

You keep me young and that's how I wanna be)

Won't you help me sober up

All the big kids they are drunk

And I want to feel something again

Won't you help me feel something again

Can I finally feel something again

How's it go again?

After eight years on the same cul-de-sac, Lucy had never expected Camila to be the one to leave first.

But it had happened suddenly. They were laying down on Camila's bed, and listening to The Lumineers on the radio, glancing up at the white ceiling of Camila's room.

"You should put some posters here," Lucy tells her. "You have so many on the walls, and in comparison the ceiling just looks so - bland."

"I don't know..." Camila trails off.

"Come on, we can do it next week," Lucy says, the blush rising in her cheeks as she encouraged her friend.

"That's the problem." Camila says quietly, barely audible, but Lucy hears it ring in her ears anyway. "I won't be here next week...we're moving. I'll be gone by next Tuesday."

"Well...that's okay. We'll be going to the same school this year, right? It'll be the first time you get out of homeschooling. You'll be a sophomore."

"Lucy." Camila replied softly, each word ringing like a church bell in Lucy's ears. "We're moving to a completely different state. My Papa is getting a job in Texas."

"Why-you didn't tell me."

"I didn't want our sadness to get in the way of what could be our last memories together." Camila replied. "I was planning to tell you soon, I wouldn't have left without letting you know. But with the way the world works - I'm not sure if we'll see each other again."

"Mila, you're being overdramatic. We'll see each other. We'll keep in touch, okay? You have my number, my email, my address. We can talk until we're not apart anymore." Lucy's voice cracked a bit as she spoke, forcing the words out of her mouth with a rasp, the vocal fry showing how much she was trying not to cry.

"Yeah, we'll keep in touch." Camila replied. "We'll talk every day?"

"Every day." Lucy promised. "Now, let's go make some memories for you to take on the road."